


The Noisiest Sleeping

by Castir



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Banter, Canon typical alcohol use, Fluff, Jester is there for like three sentences, M/M, Multi, Play Fighting, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Tickling, and sometimes you just need something light hearted and silly, i am the change i want to see in the world, i love this fandom but its got some kind of angst boner, just general shenanigans all around, or at least trying to, sleeping, you could probably argue either way whether or not this is an ot3 thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castir/pseuds/Castir
Summary: In which Caleb gets a bit of petty revenge, Molly dishes it out but can't take it, and Fjord just wants one peaceful morning.





	The Noisiest Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I'm good at writing one kind of thing and its self indulgent fluff and shenanigans.

The inn was tiny and crowded. Dismal really. Barely standing on the edge of the dirt road. The only building around for miles, so of course every passer by stopped. Too many people in not enough space. It was like some kind of awful running theme.   
  
It was some sort if blessing then, that the group had been lucky enough to procure more than one room. And at that, ones with no preexisting roommates. So that was nice. Sort of. Better than expected, at least.   
  
Though few unexpected blessings come without a complimentary curse, and this was no exception. So while the girls struck off happily to their room packed with single beds and cots, the boys stood in the door of theirs contemplating their choices.   
  
Small inn, few rooms, you took what you could get. It was better than camping outside for sure. Though it was made complicated by three aching, exhausted bodies and a bed that could maybe fit two.   
  
“Fine,” Molly finally broke the silence, stepping passed the other two and into the room proper, “Generous of you to offer me the bed, really, but I think I’ll take the floor. No trouble.”   
  
His traveling pack was haphazardly dumped into the corner and he took hardly a moment to spread his bedroll out before he was back on his feet again, “I don’t think I’m quite drunk enough yet to turn in. Gentlemen.” He offered both Caleb and Fjord a curt nod and swept off down the hall to drown his mood in the most interesting drink the inn could muster.  
  
The bedroll lay in a rumpled heap on the floor, daring either of the remaining two to make so much as a comment. There was little else to be said though. And if everyone was being honest, Molly was often more agreeable with an extra drink or two in him. So the door was shut behind them and the night wound down.   
  
When Molly returned some time later the inconvenience of sleeping on the floor was no longer on his mind. He was feeling warm and pleasant with a belly full of liquor and happy for the familiarity of his own bedroll.   
  
He had the decency to creep in quietly and ease the door shut with a soft click. Certainly Caleb must have noticed, even despite having his nose pushed into a book, which he read by the dim flicker of an oil lamp on the bedside. Though he showed little outward reaction and continued to read, curled up into the smallest space he could. Exactly as far away from Fjord as he could get without toppling clear off the edge. The latter seemed for all intents to be quite soundly asleep, head stuffed under a pillow to block out the lamp light. His breathing was deep and even and his one arm dangled bonelessly over the side of the bed.   
  
If it were any other night Molly would have had some comments on how ridiculous the two of them looked, scared to so much as brush elbows. But the drinks had made him rather sleepy and placid, and so it was boiled down to a short humorless chuckle at their expense instead. If either of them took notice it didn’t show.   
  
Once all the extra unnecessary layers were removed, and all his jewelry placed in a line beside his bag, Molly settled into his bedroll and made a small mental note to be thankful of the pillow and extra blankets that had been arranged on it for him. The thought left him almost as fast as the desire to keep his eyes open.   
  
Several hours later, long after Caleb snuffed out his reading light and settled in for sleep, and long after Fjord’s deep breathing shifted in the direction of light snores, Molly found himself suddenly and unhappily awake. Sitting up with a hissed curse and running hands over bare arms to chase away the phantom sensation of little bug legs walking all over him.   
  
From off in some other dark corner of the room, one of his bunkmates made a sleepy, dubious noise and the bed creaked as they shifted. In an instant sleepy and dubious became startled awake and confused as Molly and his blankets and pillow wormed their way into the middle of them,  
  
“—sick of being crawled on by spiders and mice and who knows what else. Let me in, move over.”   
  
There was a bit of token grumbling and some shifting around, refluffing pillows and negotiating of whose legs went where, but the three eventually settled again. All very much on top of one another, like it or not. But it was at least warm that way. And if there were any complaints nobody voiced them.   
  
At least not until the morning.   
  
It was hardly even dawn, the light creeping in through the slatted blinds was soft and gray. There were several hours yet of sleep to be had. Though in the face of an unexpected knee to the stomach, Molly was apparently doomed to miss out.   
  
In hindsight, it had probably been an accident; just Caleb reflexively curling up into a tighter ball in his sleep, but after everything else, the last thing Molly wanted was to be kicked awake, and the grumbled “Watch it,” was perhaps just a smidge too far to the side of aggressive. He was frankly too tired to care much beyond just that. If it had stayed at ‘just that’.  
  
The flighty, quiet apology he had expected to tumble out of the man never appeared and, startlingly, was replaced by a low noise of disgust. Molly cracked an eye open just in time to watch Caleb covering his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his shirt,  
  
“Gods, you stink like bad liquor.”   
  
To be fair it had been rather sub par as far as liquor went. Enough to smooth out a bad mood in a pinch, but definitely not something he thought he might want to order again. But even so: rude.   
  
“You’re not exactly a pot of roses yourself,” the quip didn’t have much life or energy behind it, too early, still sleepy, all the usual excuses, and Molly shut his eyes again and settled into the pillow, thinking it the end of the exchange. His expression crinkled up into a frown when it all at once was not,  
  
“Least I’m not deliberately breathing in people’s faces,” to be fair it was whispered, and still smothered behind Caleb’s hand, and quite likely was not meant to be heard. But he had heard it. And it was absolutely much too early to take that kind of back sass.  
  
Molly was already midway through the motion when Fjord growled, “Hush,” in the low, no-nonsense tone of a man who was similarly unhappy with being awoken. But it was much too late by then. Molly had already taken his pillow and unceremoniously stuffed Caleb beneath it. The odd noise of shock that came out of the latter was a delight; the way he struggled to wiggle himself free just as much so. The ghost of a chuckle was on Molly’s tongue, and he’d have been content to leave it at that and go back to sleep with his small victory.   
  
“I said, hush!” Fjord snapped, a bit louder than before and jabbed an elbow into Molly’s back, “Leave ‘im alone.”  
  
“He started it,” Molly hissed and responded in kind, kicking ineffectively at Fjord’s legs until he was kicked back. He willfully ignored the tiny, defiant “Did not,” from Caleb. What were they now, children?   
  
The answer was apparently yes. No sooner had he opened his mouth to retort than he found it full of his own pillow, suddenly shoved back into his space by Caleb. Molly hadn’t pegged him as the petty revenge sort, but the cards were down now, and this meant war.   
  
Somewhere behind him Fjord was protesting, Molly could feel the bed shifting as the man half turned over to do so. A pity then, that everything he said was muffled to nonexistence by the pillow. How ever was he to heed his advice?  
  
Blindly, Molly reached between the covers to shove Caleb away, or off, or even jab into some soft, unguarded part of him. It didn’t matter what, any change was bound to be an improvement. He was down to random chance, but Molly considered himself rather lucky, generally speaking. And so when an odd little noise of panic slipped out of Caleb, immediately preceding the dull thud of him toppling over the side of the bed and onto the floor, Molly took it as a victory.   
  
The half a moment he got to look over and appreciate the sight of him was just an added bonus. Caleb had the shocked and taken aback look of someone who had been abruptly slapped across the face. The fact that he was largely upside down and hopelessly tangled in his own blanket just made it hilarious. Molly didn’t think much of it beyond its comedic face value, it was the sputtering, panicked way the man scrambled out of reach when Molly moved to push his legs the rest of the way off that made him suspicious. The kind of suspicious that only ever ended in mischief. His favorite kind.   
  
“Will you both—“ Fjord was still holding out for that last little hope of a peaceful morning, Gods preserve him. But if everyone was being honest with themselves, it had been a lost cause from the start.   
  
Molly pitched over the edge of the bed after Caleb, not sure exactly what he had touched to make him fall down there in the first place, but confident that he could find it again. Particularly now that he no longer had the handicap of a pillow over his head. The half hysterical yelp that he caused in doing so was an absolute treat.   
  
“No, no, no, don’t you fucking—!” Oh, but it was much too late for that. Molly hadn’t even touched him before Caleb had his lip firmly between his teeth to keep his poker face from shattering. Quite unsuccessfully in fact, the man was as transparent as ever. Or perhaps Molly had just developed a good eye for spotting liars. One of the two.   
  
The second he got his hands beneath the tangled blanket the thrashing started. Which was fine. It only caused Caleb to further trap himself, which in turn made it easier for Molly to decide precisely which spots along the man’s sides produced the most entertaining reactions. Suspicions absolutely confirmed: Caleb was ticklish and that was a fantastic discovery.   
  
“Surely you must have known I always get the last word,” he purred, the predatory grin he wore stretching wider, “You know what they say about starting fights you’re not prepared to finish.” Never mind the extra sleep, it was much more fun to get to watch Caleb turn red and frantically try to keep himself from laughing out loud. It wasn’t working, not by a long shot, but it was nonetheless a delight to behold. Bright, unabashed laughter was a surprisingly good look on him, and Caleb could probably stand to have a few more smiles in his life anyway. Molly felt exactly no regret.   
  
Not until Fjord finally decided he was through putting up with their antics, anyway.   
  
“Alright, enough!” He barked, and it was Molly’s turn to make a strange noise of panic when he was suddenly yanked backwards by his tail. There were a variety of unpleasant things he wanted to say about such a development, starting first and foremost with ‘how fucking dare you’, but whatever they were, they were all blown clear out of his head by the next development.   
  
He’d barely hit the mattress before absolutely every available blanket and pillow (and Fjord himself, it rather felt like) was piled on top of him. He could neither see not hear what Fjord was saying, and put forth the proper obligatory struggles. It seemed just a smidge to the side of excessive to Molly after that, when the man didn’t relent. He was midway into dislodging himself when he caught the tail end of what Fjord had been saying,  
  
“—anybody gets the last word here, its me.” There was something in the way he put emphasis on the final word that gave Molly the impression he was doomed. He could definitely hear the grin in his voice, and if that hadn’t cemented it for him, the shock of cold fingers creeping around bare skin absolutely did.   
  
The first thing to tumble out of his mouth was an inelegant squawk, followed shortly thereafter by a string of curses filthy enough to make a sailor blush. Whether it had any sort of effect on Fjord, he couldn’t say. Removing himself from the heap of blankets in order to see had become secondary to trying to kick the man in the head or scramble after his hands to stop the assault.   
  
“What were you just sayin’ about starting and finishing fights?” Fjord crooned, chuckling a little and very calmly shifting so Molly would have to twist himself into ridiculous contortions to be able to kick him. Which would only put him into even more vulnerable positions, and Fjord had probably thought of that. Absolutely unfair. The nerve. Molly tried anyway.   
  
He had many fewer reservations about making a racket than Caleb seemed to. In part because he suspected if he made enough noise someone in an adjacent room would thump the wall and it would convince Fjord to stop. Because he truly was not making a lot of progress on that by himself. Reservations or not, it was downright impossible to keep the laughter in his throat anyway. Fjord had the luxury of sight on his side, and strong arms, and a well laid trap. And while Molly could think of one or two much more interesting things he might do with such advantages, if Fjord’s only plan was to pin him down and tickle him to pieces, he was powerless to stop him. Petty revenge indeed.   
  
It was some sort of miracle when Molly squirmed himself out from beneath the blankets, and he took the opportunity to gasp up a breath before it was inevitably squeezed back out of him. He caught a glimpse of Caleb as he turned over to make a wild grab for Fjord’s hands. Still on the floor, perhaps, but now with the most self satisfied, smug grin Molly had ever seen on him. It looked comically out of place, and had he not already been half sunk in laughter from Fjord’s fingers poking into the soft part beneath his ribs, he’d have laughed at that.   
  
“Serves you right,” Caleb said with a smirk, and Molly almost didn’t hear him: he was understandably distracted. Fjord’s deep rumbling chuckle he heard with acute clarity, though, because it preceded a switch in tactics that made Molly twist and make a dive for escape. It was a pity that Fjord was stronger than him. And also unreasonably skilled at finding every over-sensitive spot on him that Molly hadn’t even known he’d had.   
  
Something had to give. It was absolutely, definitely, a complete stab in the dark, but he felt compelled to try anyway,  
  
“Caleb, help!” He gasped and didn’t get to see the way his expression shifted into amused disbelief for how he’d screwed his eyes shut. As if it might have made a difference in his situation. It didn’t; eyes open or closed Molly was helpless to do much else other than remain trapped beneath Fjord’s arms and take it.  
  
“ _Me?_ Me help?” Caleb scoffed. The bed creaked when he climbed up to perch on the edge of it, “After everything you just put me through?”  
  
“I’m sorry!” It was wholly insincere, but still worth a shot.   
  
“Don’t look especially sorry to me,” Fjord said and Gods, the sound of the grin in his voice bordered on maddening, “What do you think, he look sorry to you, Caleb?”   
  
The sound of the man’s chuckle was barely audible above everything else, but when he spoke his voice was clear and controlled and, Molly realized with some measure of dread, had the same sound of a dangerous smile in it,  
  
“Now, now, no need to force an insincere apology, he said I should help and I fully intend to do so.”  
  
For one fleeting second everything stopped and Molly thought perhaps he was off the hook after all. The very next second everything swung back into action, and he didn’t remember when Fjord had climbed on top of his legs or captured both his hands, but it was absolutely not helping matters. Caleb—the absolute sneak: lulling him into a false sense of security Molly knew he shouldn’t have believed—had his fingers all over his stomach. Which was now completely impossible to guard thanks to Fjord and his infuriatingly smug grin.   
  
The first thing he did was completely fail to stifle a peal of laughter. It was a surprise even to Molly himself exactly how unprepared he was for this turn of events. And the gusto with which he flung himself backwards and away may have even surprised his companions, because for a beat Fjord’s grip slackened, Caleb’s hands faltered, and Molly thought maybe, just maybe he’d be lucky enough to slip away.   
  
He got as far as flipping to his stomach to scramble off the bed before it became very obvious he was neither quick nor coordinated enough to make such an escape. He’d take his victories where he could get them, though, and Molly decided off in some far corner of his mind that at least neither of them got to see the ridiculous face he’d made when they’d dived after him, inadvertently smothering him face down in the sheets. The giggling he could no longer control was also muffled in such a position, so that was something too.  
  
Even so, there were absolutely too many hands on him now. Molly couldn’t tell whose were whose, or what they were doing, just that he was well beyond his capacity to deal with it gracefully, and thus descended into wild thrashing (ineffective though it was). He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. Every sensation was electric and he couldn’t manage to so much as dislodge one of them, no matter which way he squirmed or how hard he kicked.   
  
He’d just begun to gasp a frantic string of ‘I yield’ and ‘Stop’ and ‘Mercy’ when three sharp knocks on the door cut through their antics and everything ground to a halt. Molly felt it when both the other two froze, could just picture the caught-in-the-act look on Caleb’s face. Fjord was quick to break the tension at least,  
  
“Go away, we’re sleeping!” He called. He had laughter in his voice, was just the littlest bit breathless from the exertion. It was the worst lie Molly had ever heard, and even though it made his stomach ache in protest, he couldn’t help but snicker at the absurdity.   
  
They all relaxed just a bit when it was Jester’s voice that answered,  
  
“That is the noisiest sleeping I have ever heard!”  
  
Fjord tossed his head back and laughed, it rumbled through him and, by proxy, Molly who he was very much sitting on top of. As he rose to answer the door and undoubtedly assure Jester of how perfectly innocent they all were, Caleb put a respectful distance between himself and Molly, and Molly himself remained where he was. Couldn’t have moved even if he’d wanted to, and was rather preoccupied catching up on some important breathing while he had the chance to do so. He flashed Jester a smile and a wave when she peered in, but that was the extent of his remaining energy. All his limbs felt heavy and his skin prickled with the ghosts of touches that were no longer there.   
  
It wasn’t until the door was shut again that he summoned up the energy to speak,  
  
“Let the record state, you’re both awful and I hate you unconditionally,” he said, much to the amusement of the other two who smothered matching smiles, “And further, if I’m ever able to get out of this bed, you had better hope I don’t catch you.”  
  
“That’s very threatening coming from somebody who can’t get up.” Fjord grinned at him, folding his arms over his chest. Molly offered just an easy shrug,  
  
“Fine, don’t be threatened. I imagine my inevitable revenge will be that much sweeter when you don’t see it coming.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m not worried.” Fjord said without missing a beat. He seemed infinitely less grouchy to be awake now and so Molly figured it was safe enough to toss a rude gesture at him. Getting one in return was about the best he could have hoped for, so he took it. He was feeling very comfortable now that he could lay still and breathe evenly, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered.   
  
All things considered there were worse ways to wake up in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha wow its been ages since I made content for an active fandom, this is scary as heckeroo.  
> I've taken so many passes of editing on this I can no longer tell if its good or not, so just take it and don't judge me too harshly <3


End file.
